The Apothecary Rose Read Online Free PDF Page A

blood, Owen slipped to the ground in a hellfire of pain. His last soldierly deed.
     
    Now what?
    Everything must be learned over again. He'd not bothered till now, thinking the half-blind state tempo rary. A passing discomfort, like all his wounds. When an unseen obstacle tripped him up, he shrugged it off, a small penance for his many sins, a lesson in humility. Not an easy lesson. Familiar objects looked foreign. The world appeared lopsided. When he blinked, it winked out.
    Owen learned the value of two eyes. With two, a mote in one had not blinded him. It was a mere discomfort. Now it rendered him as helpless as a babe in arms.
    Complete darkness. He knew it possible. Death, too, was possible.
    It changed everything.
    The old Duke argued that Owen's loss of sight did not render him useless - an archer aimed with one eye shut. And the strength would return to his shoulder with work. But Owen saw his blinding as the result of his own faulty judgement and the shoulder wound as the inevitable result of his blinding. A one-eyed man was vulnerable. He would endanger those with whom he fought.
    Lancaster let him be for a time, then surprised him. 'You are a natural mimic, Owen Archer. In my service you have mannered yourself a knight. Your accent is rough, but the marcher lords carry the accents of their borders. And better than a lordling, you are a free man. No one owns you, you have no family honour to defend, you do not seek power through secret alli ances. I can trust you. With a little education I might use you well as my eyes and my ears. What say you?'
    Owen turned his head like a bird to study his lord with his good eye. Lancaster possessed a strange humour and was adept at maintaining a level voice, devoid of emotion. But at this moment the old Duke's gaze was level, lacking amusement.
    'I would be your spy?'
    The old Duke grinned. 'Yet another virtue. A blunt thrust to the heart of things.'
    'A spy with one eye would seem almost as useless as a one-eyed archer, my lord.' Best that he say it. Someone would.
    'Not to mention how conspicuous you are with your leather patch and angry scar.' The old Duke chuckled, enjoying the moment. 'Your unlikeliness becomes a disguise’
    'An interesting line of reasoning’ Owen said.
    The old Duke threw back his head and roared with laughter. 'Spoken with a lordling's delicacy. Excellent’ A sudden sobering. Lancaster leaned for ward. 'My son-in-law called me a master tactician. And that I am, Owen Archer. Power is not held by attending the King and fighting battles. I need trustworthy spies. You were of great value as Captain of Archers. You can be of greater value as my eyes and ears. But you must know the players and the plots. You must read well both men and their letters. Will you apply yourself to the learning of this?'
    A spy worked alone. Owen's incompleteness would endanger no one but himself. It appealed to him. 'Aye, my lord. Gladly’
    God was merciful in His designs. Owen spent the night in chapel giving thanks. He might yet prove useful.
    Two years later Owen stood in the back of Westminster Abbey church, part of the old Duke's funeral retinue.
     
    God had lifted him up to strike him down once more. He could not expect that the old Duke had arranged for his future. If the dukedom had passed on to Lancaster's own son, perhaps that might have been. But the old Duke had only daughters. The new Duke of Lancaster, John of Gaunt, was a son-in-law, husband to the old Duke's daughter Blanche, and he was the son of King Edward, which made him a powerful lord in his own right. He could hardly be expected to employ a one-eyed Welsh spy. Owen had thought much on his future the last few days. He had some money earned in the Duke's service. His best plan so far was to arrange passage to the continent and on to Italy. Many princes, much intrigue. Someone would find him useful.
    He worked on his aim until his good eye blurred with fatigue and his arms and shoulders twitched. Still a